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Ning Ning took a deep breath and, with a tone that sounded almost like she was resigned to her death, continued, "So! Tonight at the Hour of the Boar! Are you free?"

Her expression was vacant, her voice booming like a bell, and by the time she finished, her face had paled several shades. According to the established plot, Meng Jue would immediately realize that his Junior Sister was inviting him for a secret rendezvous and would refuse without a moment's hesitation.

Not to mention that the original novel described her actions and expressions in great detail, with phrases like "her voice as seductive as a silken thread," "fingers gently tugging at Meng Jue's hem," and "a faint, lingering fragrance." Even Ning Ning herself felt she wouldn't be able to resist such a display, yet Meng Jue was able to say "no" with complete composure.

Now that she looked completely unwilling, her voice stiff as a robot, and with the air of a warrior marching to his doom, he would surely find her even more repulsive.

Ning Ning had already prepared herself for a blunt rejection.

To her surprise, Meng Jue hesitated for a moment, then actually curved his beautiful peach-blossom eyes: "Alright."

Ning Ning: What did you say? Are you crazy, or am I?

The even crazier part was yet to come.

As Meng Jue spoke, his smile deepened, revealing a trace of faint, elusive pity: "How about I teach you some... things beyond your current age, how about that?"

Ning Ning was stunned.

If pupils could cause an earthquake, she would have been completely shattered.

Ah, no.

Senior Brother, are you really being this blunt? Is this even your character setting? Wake up, Senior Brother!

Midnight, small courtyard.

Moonlight danced through the trees, thin mists emerged, and the tranquil night spread down from the sky, silently melting into every inch of the earth.

Stars and moonlight cast hazy shadows, slipping into the courtyard where Ning Ning was, illuminating the girl's flushed cheeks.

"Senior Brother." Ning Ning hadn't expected Meng Jue to be a man of his word and actually show up at this small courtyard at the Hour of the Boar. It was now midnight; her back was pressed tightly against his chest, their sweat-dampened black hair intertwined, cast in an ambiguous glow by the moonlight.

Her entire body was enveloped in an unbearable heat, and she bit her lip to suppress the gasps threatening to escape: "This really won't do."

Meng Jue was pressed exceptionally close to her, his palm gently gripping the girl's slender wrist. When he spoke in a low voice, brimming with a smile, his hot breath, carrying the cool scent of bamboo, lingered against the most sensitive part of her neck: "Is Junior Sister tired?"

Ning Ning no longer had the strength to nod.

No kidding!

If you practiced sword techniques for three hours straight, wouldn't you be tired too! To treat a beautiful girl from your own sect like this, Meng Jue, you have no heart!

During the day, the Senior Brother had left as soon as he finished speaking, leaving her absolutely no chance to back out. By the time Ning Ning had waited in trepidation until late at night, the man had not only actually come, but he had also brought a Sword Manual.

That's right, the "things beyond her current age" that Meng Jue had spoken of.

It was a rare, heaven-shaking, earth-shattering high-level sword technique that left her half-dead after just one run-through.

It was truly a burden too heavy for someone of her age to bear, heh.

Fine, you win.

What on earth is going on in the brains of you Sword Cultivators all day? Can you please have the thought process of a normal human being? Did the words she said sound like she was dying to learn a sword technique? Huh?

But Meng Jue didn't think like her at all.

When the Junior Sister first spoke, he had indeed subconsciously felt that Ning Ning harbored ulterior motives and had originally intended to refuse, but her expression—really—was just too ugly.

Have you ever seen someone invite a man to a midnight rendezvous with a deadpan face? Have you ever heard someone try to flirt with the tone of someone marching to their own execution? Have you ever seen anyone try to seduce someone with eyes wide as copper bells and a face as pale as a reincarnated female ghost?

Meng Jue had not.

He had seen plenty of women scheme to get close to him; all of them were soft-spoken and gentle, their eyes shimmering, practically melting into a puddle of water just to throw themselves into his arms.

But the Junior Sister was not like that.

Her expression was filled with humiliation, shyness, and indignation, and the most prominent of all was a determination to face death without flinching.

—This was clearly her being unwilling to accept defeat after losing to an Outer Sect Disciple, wanting to come and ask for guidance on sword techniques!

The shame and indignation of losing to Pei Ji, the shyness of taking the initiative to speak to him for the first time, and the "death-defying" resolve to persist in asking for guidance even knowing he was merciless when teaching and that she might be worked to death.

Understood this way, everything made perfect sense.

This, this is a Sword Cultivator!

He never expected that the naturally unruly Junior Sister would be so motivated. Meng Jue was very moved.

"Senior Brother," Ning Ning, having practiced for three consecutive hours, had eyes like a dead fish. She felt that a young Sword Cultivator had lost her dreams tonight. "I can't learn it anymore, really."

So please, I beg you, let her go!!!

Getting blown up by alchemy furnaces, being tortured by sword techniques, and being misunderstood as a lovesick fool following a young boy back to his dormitory.

She was just an ordinary, run-of-the-mill villainess! Was this the fate a villainess was supposed to endure? It was clearly like filming a cultivation version of To Live!

Ning Ning felt she was more wronged than Xiang Lin's Wife; she was truly foolish, truly.

She felt that this entire sect was abnormal.

And besides the three she had already met, there were still several more targets to capture. God knows what kind of monsters and demons were hidden among that group, waiting to torment her in all sorts of new ways.

The clear, ethereal voice of the Senior Brother reached her ears, sounding as gentle as jade and incredibly considerate: "Junior Sister, you have already learned a small portion of this sword technique. You only need to practice a bit more, and you will surely make a breakthrough. The greatest taboo for those on the path of cultivation is giving up halfway. Why not be a little more confident?"

Ning Ning took a deep breath and nodded.

Never before had she spoken with such confidence. Every word was enunciated clearly, each syllable imbued with an undeniable, unwavering certainty: "Senior Brother! I truly cannot learn this! I really can't!"

That's confident enough for you, you stinking Sword Cultivator!

Chapter 5

In her past life, Ning Ning had been a complete athletic failure.

She could play the piano, sketch, and practice calligraphy, but her physical stamina was abysmal. If one were to ask when she had ever exercised growing up, it would probably only be during those dance classes where she practiced ballet and swan-arm exercises.

The result was that while everyone else looked like graceful little swans, she would be half-dead from exhaustion halfway through, looking exactly like a fluttering moth about to be served on a dinner plate.